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Merrick caught his nieces in his arms, by turn, and gave each one an ecstatic hug and kiss. Suddenly the press stopped. "What's wrong, McGaffey?" demanded Patsy, anxiously. "Nothing, miss. Edition off, that's all." "What! the entire four hundred are printed?" "Four twenty-five. I run a few extrys."
I ask you, as a just man, do you doubt now that the woman on the sofa in the next room is an impostor who has taken my place? Can there be any plainer confession that she is Mercy Merrick than the confession she has made? You saw it; they saw it. She fainted at the sight of me." Julian crossed the room still without answering her and rang the bell.
She, too, has done more ambitious work, such as a Rossetti Christmas Carol, the contralto solo, "The Quest," eight settings of Stevenson's poems, the Wedding Music for eight voices, piano, and organ, and a cantata, "The Golden Asp." Mrs. C. Merrick, who publishes her works over the name of Edgar Thorn, is another talented woman who displays great gifts in small forms.
"Ah," said Harold Mainwaring, thoughtfully, as he suddenly recalled the morning when he had discovered Merrick and his assistant dragging the lake at Fair Oaks, "I think I understand how this paper came into Merrick's possession. It was evidently kept in the same receptacle which held the will, but in my haste and excitement at the discovery of the will I must have overlooked it.
"It is the innocence which survives experience that I value, not the innocence which dies with it," Alan answered gravely. "I don't understand these delicate distinctions," Dr. Merrick interposed with a polite sneer.
"You mean business and literature?" "No; I mean theory and instinct. The gray tree and the green. You've got to choose which fruit you'll try; and you don't know till afterward which of the two has the dead core." "How can anybody be sure that only one of them has?" "I'm sure," said Merrick sharply.
Merrick; "yet I must express my admiration for the courage and talent my nieces have displayed in forcing a temporary success where failure was the logical conclusion. Shortly, however, they intend to retire gracefully from the field of journalism, leaving me with a model country newspaper plant on my hands.
A few days later Jim Merrick, a brisk farmer a few miles from the Bend, stood in front of his own house, and shaded his eyes in solemn wonder. It couldn't be he'd never heard of such a thing before yet it was there was no doubt of it there was a Pike riding right toward him, in open daylight.
A gleam of sunlight filtered through the bushes and fell aslant Jane Merrick's eyes; but not a lash quivered. James gave a scream that rang through the air and silenced even the birds. Then, shrieking like the madman he was, he bounded away through the hedge, sending old Martha whirling into a rose-bush, and fled as if a thousand fiends were at his heels. John Merrick and Mr.
Of course James the gardener favored no one, as the numerous strangers at Elmhurst kept him in a constant state of irritation, and his malady seemed even worse than usual. He avoided everyone but his mistress, and although his work was now often neglected Miss Merrick made no complaint. James' peculiarities were well understood and aroused nothing but sympathy.
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